I’m hitting 29 years in a week, and I made this list of all the little lessons I’ve learned in life, which took me 29 years to fully understand and accept. When I was 15, I thought I’ve learned all there is to learn in life; when I was 20 I thought I could not do more than what I’ve already done; when I was 25, I knew there was more. Now when I’m turning 29, I know that these lessons I’ve learned the hard way are true and I hope that somehow I could glide through life more smoothly now…
1. It is better to know how to cook your own meals.
2. Math is not the end of the world.
3. You have to learn to trust yourself more.
4. You don’t have to live your life based on the opinions of other people.
5. Throw your hat over the fence.
6. When life gets tough, take it one day at a time.
7. Good health should never be compromised.
8. You appreciate home more after you leave it.
9. You must have clean fingernails and toenails at ALL times.
10. You must not apologize to a friend just because she didn’t get things her way.
11. You must not waste precious time with people who doesn’t care and so full of themselves.
12. Allow yourself a substantial amount of time to resolve all your personal issues.
13. Always follow the rules.
14. The Golden Rule works all the time.
15. It pays to be organized and detail-oriented.
16. Sometimes the easiest way is the stormiest way out.
17. Save for a rainy day.
18. There is always a solution to every problem.
19. Good things happen to those who wait.
20. Never allow myself become frumpy and unkempt.
21. Happiness is a choice and a state of mind.
22. Love yourself more first and foremost.
23. Be open to new ideas and new experiences.
24. Be happy to give a compliment, and be gracious to receive one.
25. Learn and relearn everything in life.
26. Be happy for others.
27. Do what you can and enjoy what you can today, because tomorrow, you might be too old for it.
28. Keep your expectations within reason and your hopes high.
29. Marriage is a wonderful thing.
Friday, June 30, 2006
XXIX
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
the case of the bowl set
A friend scoffed at me when she learned I had wanted a bowl set for my birthday. I spoke to her recently and mentioned to her I set my eye on an 8-piece casual china bowl set in an array of colors- mustard, tangerine, lime, blue, maroon, bone, black and ivory. It's so delightful, like Russian nesting dolls, you know, from tiniest to biggest, and I quickly fell in love with it. And even though my birthday was weeks away, my hubby purchased it for me. We went past it at the dining section at the department store, and so much like a case of love at first sight, I told myself and my hubby I have to have it!
And so we lugged my heavy birthday present (sans bows and shiny wrap) happily one afternoon. When I was still in college, I started a collection of pairs of interesting-looking bowls. I only managed to collect three pairs, and somehow it went kaput and gave in to more no-nonsense pursuits.
And then my friend gave me that most interesting remark the other day. She thought it was the oddest and most insincere gift to the female form! She said it wasn't exactly what she's expecting a husband to give on a wife's birthday.
Which got me thinking, am I that domesticated now? Have I become... too housewifely? Have I forgotten all that girly stuff and girlfriend necessities? Have I sunk deeply into the marriage abyss?
The thing is: I am not. I am more than I used to be. My friend told me the expected birthday gift would be, jewelry or a day trip to the spa. I explained to her things change slightly when one is married. In my case, my priorities have switched around a bit. It's because when you have a home to run, and a mortgage to reckon with, I believe it's best to 'acclimatize'.
My friend's argument was, a woman should be a woman no matter what, and her needs and likes should never be compromised. Marriage should not change the things that you get accustomed to. I told her that she would understand my point once she's also married. But she shot back at me that that was precisely why she dislikes marriage and thinks that marriage won't ever work for her.
She has become one of the I-don't-wanna-lose-my-identity-as-a-woman woman. And in her eyes, maybe I have become a lost-behind-husband's-identity kind of woman. But you see, I am not. And I'm not gonna scream at the top of my lungs to insist I am the same person. Because I am still the girly old me- I can't live without hair conditioner, I'd die without my beauty provisions, I still enjoy a long, (scalding) hot shower after my evening chores (a must!), I need to have my nails done before I step out, I love my earrings and my bracelets and necklaces and dream about rubies, pearls and diamond eternity rings. It's the same me. I still take forever to get ready in the morning.
But like I said, things changed just a tiny bit. I don't believe in losing oneself in marriage. I believe it's a partnership, and I believe there's growth in this partnership. The changes I speak of pertains to the drift and the structure of the things that I desire, compared to when I was still single. Maybe I like dining and housewares now, does it mean I am slaughtering my femininity?
I can't speak for every other married woman out there, but I never felt I lost myself in the shadow of my husband. Yeah, I might appear odd to others because of my strange choice of a birthday present. I'd like to be practical. And there's nothing more practical than a fancy, functional bowl set. I'm not gonna berate my husband into giving me a chichi necklace and earrings set just to celebrate and impose my womanhood. I'm comfortable and confident enough to want a humble bowl set for my birthday.
Different strokes for different folks. I can't blame my friend for thinking what an unstylish creatures we are. Maybe she was right, it was not the suitable gift. But then again, the bowl set made me happy and I'd rather stick to bowl set, be happy and be practical than oblige a jewelry birthday present and remain unsatisfied. And I still can't believe how the bowl set sparked a discourse on marriage!
Friday, June 23, 2006
newest recipe
Oh, no! This is shifting into a cooking blog! hehe But I just have to post this newest favorite recipe I had created last night:
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 cup beef brisket, sliced thinly
1 cup fresh baby portabella mushrooms, sliced
dash of garlic powder and seasoned salt
2 tablespoons worcestershire sauce and herbes de provence (for marinade)
Marinate beef brisket thin slices in worcestershire sauce and herbes de provence for 30 minutes. Saute in olive oil until meat is brown. Add portabella mushrooms and stir fry until tender. Season with garlic powder and seasoned salt.
It's that quick and simple. Maybe one day I could come up with a Quickest and Simplest Recipes From A (Previously) Non-cook cookbook, hahaha.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
dance event
Last night, David and I went to a fundraising event hosted by CMHS, where we work, called the Multicultural Dance Event. It was a showcase of different dances all over the world. We had a great time. Although at first David predicted nobody would show up, but the Clarendon Ballroom in Arlington was jam-packed by the time the show started at 7pm.
There were complimentary drinks and hors d'oeuvres during the two-hour show. And it happened again, I was asked for my ID when I tried to get some white wine at the bar. We either get a soda, beer or wine for our complimentary drink, and David dared me to ask for some wine at the bar and see if they'd ask for my ID :) Well, they did. And I just settled for a soda anyway. I wanted to take David's white wine, but the bouncer was eyeing us for possible underage drinking, hahaha! As David was going around taking pictures during the show, I feasted on sushi at the bar with an officemate.
The dance presentations were spectacular. Except for the last one, a salsa number where the pair just twirled around like they were drunk and traipsing on the dancefloor. It was quite a dreary performance compared to all other passionate routines of the dancers. I love the Sahara dancers! Their belly dancing and Middle Eastern dances were amazing and impressive! I also love the flamenco! Oh, the dancers were superb. All the footworks and intense rhythms and clapping of the hands, plus their very colorful costumes, was totally astounding.
Other dances include an West African dance, Irish step dance (the kids were cute in their bright and intricate costumes and curly hair), Indian and South Asian dances, Hasidic and Yiddish traditional dance, hip-hop, and other Middle Eastern dances. But the flamenco and the belly dance were the best-applauded performances. The whole show was wonderful. The current Miss Ethiopia emceed the event.
Several people from work were there, and we huddled together around our tiny table, chatting and having fun. We met families and loved-ones of co-workers, too. And in gatherings like this is when you get to more your coworkers beyond snappy lunches, strait-laced meetings and spontaneous idle talks on the hallway. I am loving the experience. It enriches the whole existence.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
summer is here!
Summer officially started today! The humidity is making me giddy. But I love this season. There is a torrent of festivals, beach outings, flea markets and lively activities we can enjoy. I love this place, there is so much we can do!
Back home, summer is unofficially marked by the week-long celebration of the Semana Santa. By that time, temperature creeps up to an unbearable proportions. And people escape it by going to the beach, taking long siestas, cooling off in a water park or the mall, and overindulging on halo-halo. It's the season for fiestas, too. Time to reconnect with kin and loved ones.
During summer back home, flowers are abloom and fruits are abundant. And it's also the time for my favorite childhood summer memory- the Flores de Mayo. I remember until I was ten years old, I adored Flores de Mayo. I practically wiped out my grandmother's flower garden, just to bring a flower offering everyday to the Virgin Mary. And we get to learn to pray and play with other kids. And at the end of May, I get to be either an angel or Reina Elena in the Santacruzan.
I realized now that I have so many wonderful summer childhood memories it could fill an entire baul :) Now it's time to create more happy memories again. Because I think I missed the true essence of summer- relaxation, merriment and socializing. Back in high school and college, summers were spent on summer workshops and classes and many other extra-curricular activities. I am wondering if I could ever do simple things yet again. Start a hobby, explore places, have fun and throw my cares away. Maybe I could do that this year!
This is my second summer here, and I love it. There are many, many exciting things David and I can likely do. Go places, try out and enjoy the things we've never tried before, like visiting lighthouses, scouring more flea markets, visit more historic places. Ahh, all those possibilities!
Happy summer!!!
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
A lesson in "hiya"
We had an eye-opening experience last weekend. It had something to do with kindness, manipulation and the Filipino word “hiya”. Hiya, in Filipino means shame and is a motivating factor behind behavior. It is a sense of social propriety and conforming to societal norms of behavior. It is synonymous to basic courtesy. Good manners, that is. But in our experience last Saturday, hiya was thrown out of the window.
I know it’s a cultural difference. This culture, unlike Pinoy, tends to be more assertive, demanding and bold. While most Pinoys would be hesitant and shy with other people who are helping them, this culture appeared to me as presumptuous. I know it was our first sampling of that particular trait, but I could not believe it was tolerated (by grownups, regretfully). It was disheartening.
Courtesy, respect, gratitude- these were all trampled upon. In my own two eyes, I witnessed how a 9 year old child, can manipulate other people. One could easily argue the child’s background and emotional need. But helping this child to experience what they couldn’t possibly experience in their own family life, disregarding courtesy, respect and gratitude, is not helping at all. I believe you simply gave them something, but with no meaning.
Let me talk about Little Miss Ginger Ale, our 9 year old subject. She came from the inner city, from a neighborhood teeming with drugs. She was part of the group of kids invited by the inner city outing club where we took part as first-time volunteers for the club’s activity for that day. That weekend, we were going to a charity polo match at the Green Meadows Polo Club in The Plains, Virginia. Initially, she seemed to be fine, talkative and eager. But much to our surprise, she was no timid little child, after all.
We took them first to a department store to pick some outfits and accessories for them. For the girls, we were to pick shoes and hats for them, to complete their ensemble for the polo match. Since nothing would fit from the choices prepared by the store for them, we were asked to pick shoes and hats with them. As soon as they set their eyes on the hats and shoes, they started ripping the price tag off them! We were aghast. And it looked like they were out of control. They would not listen to us, and they began demanding the things that they want. Little Miss Ginger Ale smugly declared to us- “I want this! I want this pair of shoes! I need a purse! I need some earrings! This is what I want!” And they made quite a little scene at the store, which prompted a lady to say to me, Oh guys, you’re in a mess.
We were mortified. We felt helpless. We went into a litany of “You can’t have that! Put that back! Are you out of your mind? You can’t even walk in them!” Ginger Ale’s sister even cried and insisted she wanted those stilettos. We, with our hiya culture and background, were all shook up. We were tormented by the scene we’ve just been exposed to. Nobody, even how poor and desperate and troubled they are, in the Philippines would act such a way when other people show them kindness.
And I thought that was the last of their hullabaloo. On the way to the event, they were constantly annoying us- “Turn that music on! Turn this window down! It makes my nose bleed. Give me your glasses! I need some lotion! I only drink ginger ale. Get me some ginger ale!” I couldn’t wait for them to get off the car.
I know this is a different culture, a different place and a totally different scenario. We were aware of that. But we believe courtesy, respect and gratitude must be invariable. And we couldn’t help but compare them with those humble, impoverished underprivileged souls in the Philippines who would say thank you when given something, and would not dare to demand for something, and would not be as manipulative as Little Miss Ginger Ale. Hiya would always matter, out of respect and gratitude to those who helped them.
And sadly, the grownups seemed tolerant. Whatever they want, they said. Which we believe was unacceptable. Allowing kids to be impolite is allowing them to plunge deeper into the shabby existence they already have. I know their life is hard, and a little indulgence can make them a little happy. But the way we saw it, it was a clear case of manipulation and taking advantage of one’s kindness.
Yes, it was but one, single experience. But it was enough to jolt us to a harsh reality, and into a barrage of questions that would torment our beings. We hope we can fathom the entanglement of the said experience. I had some experience mingling with the underprivileged kids in my husband's high school batch's yearly Reachout before, but we never encountered anything like Ginger Ale. Which made us realize that wherever we may go, the values that we grow up with, sometimes forgotten, will still stir our souls and make us appreciate what we have as warm and grateful people..........
Monday, June 19, 2006
Courage Cup
We were invited to a charity polo match (the 2006 Courage Cup) by David's friend last Saturday. It was held at the Green Meadows Polo Club in The Plains, Va. It was our first polo match and we thought it was fancy- but definitely great. I love the tailgate picnic! It was a hot and humid Saturday (around 90 degrees) and so we were slowly scorched under the sun. It was one lovely and thrilling afternoon for us, but unfortunately, the day did not start as dandy and unruffled as it should be.
That- is an entirely different story. And I could devote a whole new blog post for that. Let me just say, the chaos involved a misrepresentation, a knotty schedule and Little Miss Ginger Ale. The first one, I must admit, was clouded by my reluctance and impatience. The other two were total disappointment. And David and I were mortified, exasperated and disturbed. Positively quagmired.
But let me babble about the Courage Cup. As described, it was the hallmark of the Washington Social Calendar. To be there was exhilarating enough. Our group had a tailgate picnic, and I guess it was enjoyable. We enjoyed the whole scene. Though we did not pay that much attention to the game, but I think the whole event was designed more for socialization- meeting people, to see and be seen, just having fun. And of course, everything was for charity.
I loved everything about the event- the nice-looking people in elegant outfits, the great-looking horses, horsemen swinging the tiny ball with their mallet, and this thing called divot stomping. The mood of the whole event was captivating and impressive.
How I wish that the day started out splendidly. But no use lamenting what had just transpired. I'm glad it ended wonderfully. I'd rather spend a day which began rather shaky and turned out to be a blast, than a day started off jubilantly and ended horribly, totally ruining the day. I enjoyed our day out at the Courage Cup!
Friday, June 16, 2006
slumbook mania
Trying to recall the fun and trends we had as a young girl in the late 80s, I was flabbergasted when the word "slumbook" came to my mind. I can't even find an exact definition of slumbook! But I remember the craze back when we were young. Young girls were fixated on finding who's got a crush on whom, and who has the cutest dedication, or who's got the smartest answers. Now there are blogs, tags, myspace, friendster, etc. I am not even sure if there's someone who was born or was a preteen past the year 1989, knew what a slumbook was, or how it looks like. And if they find out, I'm sure they'd cringe and guffaw like we did our parents with their bell-bottoms and afro.
But I hope people my age could remember what a slumbook was. And how we, in our youthful bliss and ignorance, wallowed in the ultimate kabaduyan! So from third grade until 6th grade (the year was 1989, to be exact), slumbook was totally hip and happening. And me and my girl classmates were kind of crazy about it, too.
The cheesiest queries would be: What is your nickname? What is your favorite color? What is your motto in life? Who is your crush? Who is your favorite movie star? What is your secret ambition? What is your favorite dish? Who is your inspiration? What are your likes and dislikes? What turns you off? Have you been in love? Do you prefer long engagement?
Totally, totally old hat. But- a deluge of squeaky teenyboppers were wrapped up into it. Ahh, those were the days. Back when you're cool when you write fucshia as your favorite color, and Phoebe Cates and Tom Cruise (and not, heavens forbid, Sharon Cuneta and Gabby Concepcion) as your favorite moviestars, or to be a (prosaic) doctor/nurse/lawyer as your ambition. Those, are the elements of nine to twelve year olds' minds. And the crushes were mostly just initials, or code names, or Top Secret. Some would even write Jesus Christ as their crush, just to escape the stinging teasing from friends, or cover up a real crush to a dorky kid. The slumbook jazzed all that up. Merry, merry, merry naïveté. Don't you think?
And who could forget those silly dedications at the end? Remember M, remember E, put them together remember ME. eeeeeeeeewwwwwwww. Could there be anything more bakya than that?! Can anyone tell me other unspeakably baduy dedications?
Well, those were the simple years. Back when life as a kid was so much simpler. Back when sunsets are sunsets, pineapple juice is pineapple juice. No complex addendum. No double meanings. Ages away from intricate and oftentimes challenging existence that is called adulthood. It was a different time then. There were no iPods, no myspace, no camera phone and text messages, no blogs. Just unadulterated expressions of youthful innocence. Through the humble, outdated piece called the slumbook.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
my biggest (yet) obsession
Lately, I have been a girl of many obsessions- perfecting sunny side up, hanging the bath towel to dry in my preferred way, not moving any of my stuff in the kitchen (so that I'll be able to reach anything even with my eyes shut), taking out the trash on the dot, doing my rituals in a precise sequence and manner, among other silly things. And then... getting obsessed with dogs. I watch dog shows and Animal Planet a whole lot. And I get excited and envious everytime I see a dog out prancing about, or drooling in a car window.
You see, I've left an adorable, bratty tiny little dog back home. And I miss her terribly. She's an angel, although my mom told me recently she has become kind of a prima donna- always wanting to do things her way. And as expected, my mom was indulging her.
She was a gift to me a couple of years ago. At that time, I lost my other dog and I thought I could not bear to have another dog again. But she turned out to be a real joy. I love her so much, she's the cutest thing in the whole world. But soon after, she has become more my mom's dog (she'd ignore me when mom's around, and she'd rush to my mom, not to me when we get home) as she was my dog. But we have a special bond together. Now, everytime I talk to my mom on the telephone, she'd let me "talk" to her, too, and mom said, she would perk up when she hears the word "bubblelicious". She had always liked it when I call her that way.
And so, I have been hinting for a long time now how tempting it is to have a tiny dog. But as appealing as it was, I know we can't have a dog right now. So I guess I'd just have to deal with getting envious to every dog and dog owner right now. And recently, I have been urging my hubby to have an excursion to the animal shelter, so that we can take a look at all their adorable dogs. Something tells me at the back of my mind it's extraordinary to rescue a dog. But then again, I'd just have to appease myself with just holding them and petting them, even for just a while.
I would tell my hubby, we can pretend to be prospective adoptive pet parents, and then we can hug and enjoy as many dogs as we want to. And I even have this plan to visit as many animal shelters as we can. Faced with the prospect of spending Saturday and Sunday afternoons in shelters, the look on his face was of total skepticism :)
So I am now in a tangled emotional hubbub. I really love those malti-poos, or even those rambunctious Parson Russell terriers, or maybe the goo-goo eyed King Charles spaniels- but I guess my heart will forever be pinned down to my little terri-poo rascal back home. 
Monday, June 12, 2006
my dinner date
I went out on a little date with my hubby last Saturday night. It was not the mushy candle-lit dinner date, but just a nice and thoughtful "let's go out so that you don't have to cook dinner anymore". And I thought it was so romantic and solicitous of him.
We went to this Vietnamese restaurant, which we nosed out from the Washingtonian. It was a no-nonsense place where they only serve their specialty- Phở. David liked this traditional Vietnamese noodle dish, but it was my first time to taste it. It was an interesting bowl filled with white rice noodles in beef broth, with thin cuts of beef brisket. Actually, you have a choice of steak, fatty flanks, or tripes and even chicken. Other ingredients are onions, coriander leaves, basil, mint, bean sprouts and lime. I love it. The taste is something new to me, yet it was very satisfying. Not bad on my first try.
The little date with him was a far cry from our dating mode before. I remember at the end of the month, we would dress up, give each other little presents and we would celebrate our 'birthday'. Abundant flowers never fail to delight me. It was definitely memorable. I was always looking forward to that end-of-the-month celebration. But I would never trade our little date last Saturday with those lavish and trendy indulgence. I adore him when we dated, and I adore him more now because he has become more considerate, chivalrous and decidedly warmhearted. Little things he does make me feel special.
Like when we were a young, dating couple, he would go an extra mile to make our days truly special. And he has never forgotten those romantic and gallant ways. As married couple now, in our own special way, we've managed to surprise each other with tender and committed deeds of love.
Esto es para usted, David. :)
Thursday, June 08, 2006
my choleric relationship with newspaper reading
When I read newspapers, I always check the Entertainment section first. Does that make me a an ignoramus?
I am talking about when I read Inquirer or Philippine Star or the local dailies, whether actually leafing through the pages or online. I have a peculiar pattern- Entertainment, Lifestyle, Opinion, Comics and then the Headlines. Sometimes I think that's quite a strange pattern, however, I would proudly stand by it and I have my reasons for doing so.
I read the newspapers because I want to be always updated on the happenings of the country. I am not exactly a political person, nor would I wish to be an activist or something of that sort. I am just curious about what's going on. And most of the time, I go from curious to annoyed to mad as hell. I always find the opinions thought-provoking, but I loathe the headlines. I rarely read the editorials because I think they're too long and don't offer enough comfort for me. I also think it is too insipid in the effort of being impartial. I just want to focus on something light and compelling, and if I possibly could, just pleasant, agreeable and stimulating news.
Like I said, I am not privy to politics, which is why I despise all politicians. And sad thing is, they're always on the headlines- doing what they do best- mudslingings, smear campaigns, name-calling, hatchet jobs. All in the name of their so-called doggone statemanship, love of country and devotion to the masses. What a baloney! If they're truly committed then they would HELP and NOT be preoccupied with destroying every other politicians on their way. They seem to have all the opinions and condemnations, but never the solutions. Basta, whoever is in the top position is evil and has to step down. That's always their standpoint. I remember David asking me once if I could make a list of my top 10 rotten politicians that has to be executed. If he would ask me about that now, I could give him a list in 1o seconds. And I know who's on the top of my list. How I hate him.
This is precisely what makes me mad when I read the newspapers. Nothing but goofball politicians ranting about how the president's destroying the country. It's always the president's fault. If the oil prices are high, it's the president's fault. If the roads, schools and facilities on their own districts are gummed up, always the president's fault, if the population increases, it's the president's fault again. Well, even an oncoming typhoon is still the president's fault! You can read the same ludicrous things every single day. And yet, as righteous as they proclaimed they are, they can never offer themselves to help. It's pretty obvious they're only displacing their hapless incompetence, ignorance and insincerity. And it makes feel a little angry inside.
Sometimes I think it's better to read recipes than to subject myself to that lunacy. It's better to read about travel, fashion, shows and events rather than douse myself with such hogwash. What I always find mirth-worthy is Pugad Baboy comics. I find it hilarious and truthful. So Pinoy and so witty at the same time. It never fails to create a smile.
As cranky as my relationship with reading the newspaper truly is, it doesn't mean I have to stop reading. Maybe because I still think I could find a glimmer of hope that it could change. Or maybe my fervent need to know everything that's stirring up the country. But I'm still hoping, and I won't lose this hope, that someday, there will truly be good news.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
frenzy Wednesday
I haven't been in a real rollercoaster, however, I can just imagine the maddening twists and turns of the ride. That's exactly how I would describe the last few days. A roller coaster of emotions, so to speak. I have always been afraid of rollercoasters and perhaps I would never be convinced to ever ride in one, not anytime soon. However, I felt the fury of ups and downs (and the upside-downs), the twirls and spins of a rollercoaster in the last few days.
In a moment of misery, it would be easy to say I feel lost. I am a lost soul. However, it keenly feels like hampered yet aware of everything else while being tossed and turned like a sack of potatoes. Or maybe not. It certainly feels like being shot high up and then back down again before I could bat an eyelash. It's madness!
However, if this were a rollercoaster ride, I know it will cease at some point, and this turbulent ride will end. And I know, I'd still be whole and I would pull around after I get off from it. And I'm lucky because I have a hand to hold while in this flurrying ride. Eso es la belleza verdadera de vida.